The Nutcracker
by pieces-of-jade
Summary: The Nutcracker!AU Twelve/Clara with appearances by other characters later on. This story just wouldn't leave my head, so here is my dramatic return to writing fanfiction with a Whouffaldi flavouring!
1. Prologue

Note: I love Whouffle/Whouffaldi. I love Christmas. In honour of the ultimate OTP and the season of giving I'm challenging myself to have this fanfiction completed by Christmas Day (no promises though because finals and film sets and ahh). It is a multi-chaptered AU, but it also deviates a bit from the straight up plot of the Nutcracker. Because plot. This story is written almost exclusively to Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker awesomeness.

Please offer your reviews to give me joy and motivation to finish it.

Disclaimer: None of the characters or storylines are mine, etc. etc. If they were Twelve and Clara would've made out by now. The UST is just killing me. Also I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. I will most likely obsessively re-read this chapter after posting it and continuously tweak all of my grammatical errors.

**Prologue**

"I think my water just broke!"

Dave Oswald looked up from his book to see his beloved wife Ellie clutching her swollen abdomen, leaning heavily on the kitchen counter for support. He jumped up from the settee and ran to support her, gently guiding her upstairs while yelling at a passing servant to call for the midwife.

...

Ten excruciatingly long and painful hours later and Ellie Oswald was still in labour.

Eleven hours later it became apparent that something was wrong with Ellie. The midwife said the bleeding refused to stop.

"If her condition continues to persist," the midwife said in hushed tones to her apprentice, Joan Redfern, "I'm afraid she won't make it."

Joan looked on at Ellie in sympathy and compassion. The poor woman was unconscious from her hard labour, and her body was continuing to stain the white sheets a dark crimson.

Joan knew the Oswalds well. Everyone did in their village. The Oswalds were an affluent and generous family who were liked by all. Ellie in particular was famous for her delicious soufflés and kind heart. Ever since she entered David Oswald's life no one could say that any man was luckier.

"What about the babe?" Joan asked, concerned for the well-being of both mother and child.

"I highly doubt the child will make it if Ellie doesn't stop bleeding soon," the midwife's prognosis was clear, but bleak, as she sighed, "What we really need is a doctor."

As soon as she heard that, Joan snapped to attention. She knew exactly who she needed to call.

Without hesitating to give the midwife an explanation, Joan ran from the room, sprinting past a tense Mr. Oswald, who was wearing a rut into the floorboards of his parlour.

"Wait! Is there any news? What's going -"

But Joan did not stop to give an answer to Mr. Oswald. She knew that time was of the essence, and that there was only one doctor in the village that she would ever go to at a time like this. She just prayed that he would be at home.

The streets at this time of night were deserted. A thick blanket of snow had freshly fallen, covering up the muddied footprints and cart tracks that characterised the bustling village during the day. A few lamps were lit on the main street, but all of the houses were dark. It was eerily quiet, and Joan shivered as she made her way through the cold towards the last house on the outskirts of town.

The building was of a modest size, old but well kept, and resided on the edge of the village, right on the edge of the woods. It looked as if it was trying to straddle the boundaries between the forest and the village, between adventure and routine. There were no surrounding buildings around it for a few miles. It also, rather conspicuously, was the only house with a bright blue front door.

The house was emitting an odd, wheezing, groaning sound, but Joan did not have time to be scared. If anything, for some odd reason, the sound gave her hope.

Joan went up to the front steps and knocked with the shiny, silver knocker in the shape of a strange box that shined like starlight. Suddenly she heard a loud bang, a shout, and the noise went deadly quiet all at once.

She barely had time to be confused or concerned before the door was wrenched open and a face suddenly loomed out of the darkness.

The tall man looked to be in his late twenties, with a shock of unruly, curly brown hair. He had a slightly round face which gave him the appearance of not quite yet losing all of his baby fat. However, despite this his cheekbones were still prominent, and his nose gave him a strong profile. His eyebrows were fierce and his clear blue eyes were cold, clearly cross about being interrupted.

He looked down at Joan, snapping in a thick accent, "Yes? What do you want?"

"Please sir," Joan said boldly, "It's Ellie Oswald. She's gone into labour, but she's dying."

Immediately the man's facial expression changed from one of annoyance and distain into one of steely determination. He popped back into his house, the sound of glassware clinking and metallic instruments banging around until he re-appeared at his doorway with a large, leather case in his hand.

"Well why the hell are you standing around?!" he shouted, before sprinting off in the direction of the Oswald residence.

Joan shook her head, after being frozen on his doorstep for a second, before running off after him.

...

The strange man burst into the Oswald's foyer, without bothering to knock or be announced. Quickly he ran up the stairs towards the the sound of moaning and the pacing of heavy footsteps.

"Doctor?!" Mr. Oswald exclaimed as the Doctor sprinted past him towards the bedroom door, through which moans were being emitted.

The Doctor had no time to explain. Time was ticking away from him, and he wasn't known as the town's magician and inventor for nothing.

Quickly, he entered the bedroom and pushed the midwife away, who was soothing Ellie's fever with a cold cloth on her brow.

"Doctor Drosselmeyer! This is highly improper! What in good heavens are you thinking-!", the midwife began to exclaim.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shutitty shut up!" the Doctor snapped, looming over the midwife menacingly before turning to Ellie's broken, swollen body with a look of extreme concentration.

He dropped his bag to the ground and began muttering to himself, as he rummaged for the right ingredients.

As the Doctor continued to work, while the midwife shocked into silence, Joan made an appearance again at the doorway. She gently guided the midwife out of the room and led her to the chair outside the door, after shutting it behind her.

"I went to get the Doctor in order to help Mrs. Oswald, ma'am. It was the only thing I could think of doing," Joan explained.

"Well I never Joan Redfern!" the midwife exclaimed, "Don't you know this is highly unusual! Childbirth is a woman's job, and it -"

"Ma'am," Joan interrupted, "The Doctor is the best person I know for the job. When my husband got sick last summer he was the only one who knew how to cure 'im. I trust the Doctor."

After seeing Joan's look of complete faith in the strange man, the midwife stopped raising a fuss. However, she still harrumphed, not quite convinced that he could work miracles. However, there was nothing else she could do, so for Ellie's sake she prayed that Joan was right.

...

The clock showed half past to midnight, and the Doctor was working furiously. He needed her child alive, and the child needed Ellie alive. Therefore he could not let Ellie or her wee babe die.

Bad Wolf had prophesied what the Oswalds' child would become a long time ago, when he himself was but a lad. Before his family died and the curse was laid upon him.

His hands were shaking as he finally got the potion just right. There was still a quarter til the hour, and it needed to be administered now. It would not work after midnight.

Gently, the Doctor propped Ellie's head up and opened her mouth, tipping the contents of his vial between her waiting lips.

Immediately her body jolted awake from its coma-like state. Her bleeding stopped, and her limbs and face became animated once more. However her eyes were still tightly shut, and he forehead scrunched up in pain.

"That's it Ellie," the Doctor murmured, still cradling her head, "Here we go, like a good lass."

He held her hand as she began to push, tears streaming down her face as she pushed with all her might.

...

Twelve hours had passed since Ellie had gone into labour, and suddenly a small wail was heard.

As soon as the child's cry filled the air Mr. Oswald ran from the parlour, quickly moving towards the bedroom when he noticed that Joan and the midwife were both sitting outside his bedroom door.

"What the devil is going on?!" he shouted, panicked and at the end of his tether after twelve long hours of receiving no news whatsoever about his wife. And where the hell had the Doctor gotten to?

"Mr. Oswald,"' Joan said in her most soothing voice as she stood to intervene between him and the door, "Your wife was in a very serious condition. The midwife and I could do nothing else to save her and the child so I went to fetch the Doctor to assist her in any way he could. I-"

But before she could continue Mr. Oswald shoved past her and burst through his bedroom door to see his wife, propped up by a lot of pillows, holding a small bundle near her heart. The sheets were still soiled, and Ellie looked more exhausted and sweaty than he had ever seen her. She was beautiful.

Immediately Mr. Oswald ran to his wife's side to peak at their child.

"It's a girl," Ellie whispered as Dave looked on in awe, "Meet your daughter."

Already he knew that she had him wrapped around her little finger, and that she held his entire world in her tiny hands.

All previous worries and cares forgotten, the Oswalds half forgot that the Doctor was still in the room, silently packing his things before moving quietly to the door. The scene of overwhelming domesticity was something he was uncomfortable with, and his work was done. He needed to get back to his own home and finish running his experiments anyways.

However, before he had successfully snuck out and left the family to their own devices Ellie called out, "Doctor!"

He froze, caught before he could escape.

"Come here, please," Ellie asked softly.

The Doctor knew that he was powerless to say no to the mother of one who would be so important to him later on. Slowly, he turned around and made his way back to the bedside where Ellie, Dave, and their daughter were cuddling together.

"Would you like to hold her? I know we owe you our lives, and for that we will be forever thankful," Ellie said, looking up at her saviour.

The Doctor frantically waved his arms and shook his head, not wanting to intrude on the family any longer when Dave suddenly stood up, scooping his little bundle in his arms and thrusting it towards him. The Doctor knew this was the other man's way of saying thank you. There was no higher honour than to be the first one to hold his daughter outside of the immediate family.

The Doctor had no choice but to accept the small lass into his arms.

As soon as he looked down onto the face of the sleeping child he knew instantly that she held his heart in her hands.

She was absolutely tiny. So tiny she should have been impossible. She had soft, downy brown hair on her head and her eyes were closed as she slumbered peacefully. Her face was round, and her nose a bit funny. She was perfect.

"Her name is Clara," Dave interrupted the Doctor's train of thought, "Clara Oswin Oswald."

The Doctor's lips quirked up, before dropping a soft kiss to the child's forehead, "Hello Clara."

...

_Nineteen Years Later_

Clara Oswin Oswald was bored. It was her nineteenth birthday, but all of her friends and family couldn't be found when she woke up that day. So she decided to go off adventuring, since everyone had rudely chosen not to wish her a happy birthday. Well, either that, or they were all planning some sort of surprise, of which Clara was secretly suspicious.

Donning her favourite red dress and heavy winter cloak she took off in the direction of the forest, but stopped at the Pink residence before she officially left the town's boundaries.

"Danny!" she shouted, knocking on his door and hoping that he would be in when all of her other friends were gone. Immediately the door opened.

"Hey Clara! Happy birthday!" Danny greeted her, grinning before scooping her petite frame into a massive hug.

He was a handsome, strong, tall, young man, about five years older than her, and quite popular with the girls around the village. He also happened to be her best friend, the two of them quickly bonding over their mischievous adventures in the woods together as they grew up.

"Thanks Danny," Clara grinned up at him, taking his hand and tugging him towards the woods with her, "Come on come on come on! I was reading up on some more botany and I definitely need to get some more samples for my collection."

Danny smiled indulgently down at her. She was always studying the world around her, particularly the woods, and the passion hadn't left her as she had grown up. And boy did she grow up, Danny mused, as they made their way towards the forest. She no longer looked like the small, but feisty and energetic friend who "could easily take on twelve" of him and the other boys. Somehow without him realizing it his friend had blossomed into a beautiful, curvy woman approaching her prime. Suddenly, holding her in his arms or grasping her hand were no longer platonic displays of affection. He was painfully aware of every time they touched and wondered how to bring up the idea of taking their friendship further with her.

His struggle unbeknownst to Clara, she forged ahead, still dragging him along by his hand, passing an old, but still standing, building with a blue front door.

The path she took to the woods always led her past this old home, which had been vacant for as long as she could remember. She knew from her parents growing up that it used to be the home to the enigmatic Doctor Drosselmeyer. She also knew that it was thanks to him that she and her mother had survived childbirth, and that her father always mentioned him in terms of the highest respect. However, the day right after her birth he had vanished, every trace of him was gone from the village except for his old home which did not seem to age normally like the rest of the buildings in the town.

The stories about Doctor Drosselmeyer lived on, though, and lived on in the form of fireside stories that the adults used to tell her and her friends when they were little. They spoke of magical inventions and toys that the Doctor, (_"never Doctor Drosselmeyer, just the Doctor"_), used to make for them. He sounded like a mythical figure, and Clara often wondered where he had departed to.

Soon enough she and Danny reached the forest, and she dropped his hand as soon as they stepped into the shadow of the trees. She needed her hands free for collecting samples.

However, soon she began to wander deeper into the woods than she had gone before, too busy studying the various plant life on the forest floor. The sun began to sink lower and lower in the sky, and as it began to set Clara looked up in alarm. Danny was no where to be seen. She wondered how on earth she had failed to notice that she had lost her friend and the path back towards the village.

_Don't panic Oswald. Chin up. Everything is going to be fine._

Clara clutched her basket closer to her chest and drew her cape around her more securely. Head held up high, she began to trace her path back to civilization the best she could, the moon rising high in the sky, when she heard a -

_CRACK!_

She froze, straining to listen for where the sound of the snapped branch came from when suddenly a looming figure appeared from nowhere, hidden in the shadows.

Clara knew that when people were frightened they would either scream, or be so utterly terrified that they would be as silent as death, too scared to move or breathe. And she knew that she fell into the second category. She felt her breathing become extremely shallow and her eyes grew round with terror as she tried to think of something - anything - to help her ward off an attack.

Somehow she found her voice and her limbs again, and she felt her feet stumble over a root when she tried to back up against a nearby tree. Her eyes never left the hidden figure as she said in a small, wavering, stutter, "I'm-I'm warning you right now! I'm really actually quite terrified. A-and that means you won't know what I will do to defend myself."

She could feel her throat begin to choke up, and tears start to well in her eyes as she felt the rough bark of the tree at her back. She clung to her basket like a shield when the figure stepped out into the moonlight.

"No need to be scared lass," he said gruffly, in a thick accent, as if he was trying to be soothing but had either forgotten how to comfort someone or never had the innate ability in the first place, "I won't hurt you."

Her eyes, already wide with fright, grew wider as she took in the appearance of her presumed attacker.

He was tall, and cut a slim, but imposing figure. He had a thatch of unruly, curly silver hair atop of his head that looked extremely soft. His face had the beginnings of frown lines and his cheekbones were quite prominent. His nose cut a striking profile for him in the moonlight and his eyebrows were fierce. And his eyes were the colour of ice, but although they tried to be as cold as their colour there was still a glint of mischief and curiosity that his aloof veneer couldn't hide.

He approached her slowly, as if she was a spooked deer, and cautiously reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. She startled, but continued to look up at him with wide eyes that were beginning to spill their first tears.

'She's quite pretty', the Doctor mused as he got closer to her. Her long, dark brown hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her face in an enticing, lovely fashion. A round, youthful face that held her beautiful lips and chocolate brown eyes the size of saucers. Her nose looked familiar to him, although he couldn't place why. It was funny, but cute, much like her reaction to him.

"Oh for goodness sake. Stop it with the eyes! What's gone wrong with your face? It's all eyes. Why are you all eyes? Get them under control," he insisted, trying to instill some sort of levity into their encounter.

"What's your name, lass?" he asked, still attempting to get her to say something, anything.

The closer he approached her the more he realized how small she was in comparison to him. So small it seemed impossible that she would be wandering the woods at this hour all by herself.

"What's yours?"

Her response caught him off-guard. His voice seemed to shock her out of her initial terror, and now her facial expression seemed guarded. Her tone of voice was suspicious, yet somehow completely inviting and almost flirtatious to the Doctor's ears.

"I'm the Doctor," he said, "And I am a man of mystery."

Clara raised her eyebrow at his introduction, a skeptical look on her face, but the guardedness from her expression was beginning to slacken. The start of a grin twitching on the corners of her lips.

"Okay, fine. I'm Doctor Drosselmeyer, and I live in the village just on the other side of these woods, which is most likely where you are from, am I right? Except I don't really go by Drossel - Ooph!"

Whatever the Doctor had planned on saying was knocked out of him when he was suddenly tackled into a hug by the small woman. His arms were awkwardly trapped at his side by the woman's arms encircling his waist and her face buried in his chest. Gingerly he tried to extract himself from the awkward situation, but attempting to free himself from the hug only made the mysterious woman hold him tighter.

Finally she released him, taking a step back and smiling up at him.

"Doctor!", she exclaimed, "I can't believe it's really you!"

The Doctor looked at her in shock and confusion.

"Alright, so it seems like you know who I am, but I still don't know who you are," he grumbled.

"Clara Oswin Oswald," she said proudly, sticking her hand out for a handshake, "I don't know if you would remember me, it's been so long ago, but..."

The Doctor knew she was still speaking. Her melodic voice washed over his ears and his eyes could see that her lips were still moving. But after she had said her name he had tuned out everything she was saying.

So this was the girl. The girl that was the reason he was returning to the village. _All grown up now_, he couldn't help noticing, remembering the feel of her soft curves pressed against the hard planes of his chest.

Suddenly he realized that her gaze was fixed on him, as if awaiting a response from him. Oh. Right. She had stopped speaking and was looking at him expectantly.

"I remember you," he said quietly, "Miss Oswald what on earth are you doing out here so late?"

"Well I _was_ collecting samples for my ongoing botany study, and generally exploring, when I realized I had wandered off the beaten path", she huffed, clearly annoyed for such a rookie mistake, "I don't even know how I did it. I've explored these woods all my life, and Danny was with me..."

She trailed off as she realized that she had forgotten all about Danny in her excitement about meeting the Doctor. Her eyes grew wide once more, and she clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Oh my goodness! Danny! I completely forgot! I hope he isn't lost too," she began to panic about her friend, her arms waving about, when the Doctor gently grasped her shoulders and forced her to look at him.

"Don't worry about him just now. Let's just get you home."

His steady voice and hypnotizing eyes had an instant, calming effect on her, and she nodded.

"Lead the way," she jokingly commanded, already re-arranging her cloak about her shoulders, and picking up her fallen basket from the ground where she dropped it when she hugged him.

"Five foot two and crying. I never stood a chance," the Doctor muttered under his breath.

...

The walk back to the village was a strange one for Clara. For once she wasn't the one leading, (or if she was honest with herself, sometimes dragging), one of her friends to and from the woods, the expert in finding their way back home. Instead she was the one being led, and she felt a strange juxtaposition of discomfort and relief at realizing she was not the one in control of the situation.

Eventually they made their way back to her doorstep, and the Doctor was at a loss for what to do next. They hadn't once touched on the walk back to her house, and the Doctor was all too aware of the physical distance between their two bodies. He was on edge. He hadn't expected her to look so pretty. Or be so bossy.

Awkwardly he tugged at the hair at the back of his neck, muttering, "A pleasure to meet you Clara."

He turned to go, but she stopped him before he could leave, just like her mother did so many years ago.

"Doctor."

And just like that night, which felt like ages ago, he froze. His body tensed as Clara moved closer to him. She stood on her tiptoes and tugged him face down towards hers so she could plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," she smiled softly.

The Doctor gave her a curt nod before quickly backing up and turning away, hastily departing for his own home.

...

Clara barely had time to shut the door behind her when she gasped in surprise. Her house was decorated as if in anticipation for a celebration.

_Oh. That's right. Her birthday._

In her foyer her father and Danny were both hurrying to put on thick winter boots, but had stopped their actions as soon as they heard the door open.

"Clara!" Danny exclaimed rushing towards her, "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize that you had wandered so far, and I was going to come back and search for you, but I wanted to come and get your father first and I-"

But his words were quickly put to a halt when Dave shoved him aside to hug her, his only remaining spark of light in the world for the past three years since his wife had passed.

"Clara, I was so worried," her father murmured into her hair.

"It's okay dad", Clara said soothingly, "The Doctor found me."

Dave looked up in alarm.

"The Doctor?" he asked, "Doctor who?"

"Doctor Drosselmeyer of course!" Clara said.

At the mention of his name Dave's eyes grew large, "You can't mean-"

"Yes dad," Clara grinned, " It was him. It was really, truly him."

"Well that's the second favour I owe that man," Dave said in wonderment.

"Clara, the Doctor has been gone for years. Are you sure it was him?" Danny asked skeptically, his voice just off to her right, where Dave had shoved him off to.

"Yes Danny," Clara huffed, "It really, truly was him. Now what were all these decorations for?"

Her father smiled sheepishly, "It was meant to be a surprise party for you. Danny was meant to distract you while we put it together. But everyone's gone now that it's so late, and worried sick with where you are."

Clara frowned. She hadn't meant to cause her family and friends so much worry. She was also ashamed that they had all gone through so much trouble for her and she hadn't even been there to thank them for their hard work. Even if she did hate surprises.

Dave saw his daughter's facial expression fall at the mention of her party and tilted her head up to look at him, "Don't worry Clara. We can always celebrate it another time. I have a feeling now that the Doctor's back there will be plenty to celebrate."

...

Months passed and the Doctor was still in the town. He had taken up residence in his old home again, and quickly established himself once again as the town's magician and inventor. No one asked where he had disappeared to and he didn't offer any answers. It was as if everyone had silently agreed not to talk about his mysterious nineteen year disappearance.

Meanwhile Danny found himself seeing less and less of Clara, while she found herself seeing more and more of the Doctor.

Over the first few weeks he was there she found herself constantly looking for excuses to go pester him in his home with the bright blue door. After the first month she found herself a regular fixture in his laboratory. After the first few months he began inviting her on his expeditions into the forest, and she quickly began to realize how much spending time with him meant to her. They bickered, as her mum would say, like an old married couple and worked together as equals.

She quickly found that her favourite time of day was when she was off on one of her explorations with the Doctor. Their adventures in the woods together were clearly becoming an interesting highlight in her otherwise boring life.

The Doctor was a man of many talents. He constantly amazed her with his multitude of skills and his ability to make anything sound interesting. He was lively and intelligent, if a bit grumpy and rough on the edges, and endlessly fascinated Clara. She couldn't quite put her finger on him and what made him tick. And that rarely happened to her.

In contrast she had thought she understood Danny Pink for her entire life. But now she wasn't so sure. Every moment she was not spending with the Doctor was gobbled up by her old friend. He kept insisting on spending time with her at odd moments, and kept trying to take her out dancing or on one on one picnics down by the lake. She didn't understand why none of their other friends were invited, and once she began seeing a pattern to their excursions together she wasn't sure how to break the news to him that they clearly saw their relationship differently.

She wasn't looking for a romance with Danny. Not by a long shot, and his version of dates seemed to pale in comparison to the Doctor's every time. Danny would take her out for a horseback ride along the riverbank. The Doctor would jump headfirst into the river and drag her along with him. Danny would take her out dancing at the tavern. The Doctor performed his own version of dancing with her alone under the moonlight. If dancing was a euphemism for clearly avoiding any sort of romantic implication while he thought she was looking during their nightly adventures.

Although at one point while they were wading through some bog or another, grinning like the idiots they were, she thought she heard him distinctly mutter, "Beat that for a date."

It felt like she was leading a double life, one moment with Danny and another with the Doctor, until she felt like her head would explode.

"I can't keep doing this," she muttered to herself as she once again trekked through the forest alongside the Doctor.

He had promised to take her somewhere new and exciting, like he did every day. _"But Clara! This one promises to have a rare species of lilies I must have for our collection!"_

She had enjoyed the way he said "our" and couldn't help but say yes to his eager, hopeful face. He always looked so youthful, so boyish when he took on that expression. As soon as she agreed he grinned his lopsided, crooked smile that she had secretly begun to think of as her smile. The older villagers had noticed he was smiling more these days then ever before, and it was always around her. Something that her friend Amy Pond was quick to tell her, after hearing the gossip from her aunt.

"Just a few more steps!" the Doctor called out from in front of her, leading the way on their adventure like usual.

Suddenly the thicket of woods stopped, and a clear meadow dotted with lilies and a variety of other flowers was spread out before her. It was beautiful.

The Doctor didn't seem to stop to admire any of the natural beauty around him, however, and quickly made his way through the grass to find his rare sample.

Clara followed him lazily, allowing him to go off and investigate on his own. The meadow was too beautiful and the sunshine too lovely to waste. Eventually she just decided to lay down in the middle of the clearing as the Doctor continued to make his way to the other end of the field.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply at the scent of flowers surrounding her. Lovely.

However before she could properly sleep, and was merely dozing, she heard an alarmed cry.

"Clara! CLARA?!" the panicked shout of the Doctor rang out, and she bolted upright to look in his direction.

"Doctor! Don't worry! I'm here!" she shouted, her voice calling to him as he sprinted towards her.

The Doctor held her tightly in his arms, a rarity for him, which Clara secretly savoured, although she was loathe to examine why.

"Oh my Impossible Girl," he breathed into her neck, "Don't scare me like that."

She almost didn't catch his words they were so quiet, and when she did she wasn't sure what to say in response to them.

They usually exchanged flirtatious banter, not honest sentiments. And sure he led their adventures in the woods, and she learned from him in his laboratory. However they were clearly equals, and he trusted her to take care of herself if they ever got into a spot of trouble. This was a new development for her, and she didn't know what to do. She hated not knowing what to do.

Luckily her body seemed to instinctively react to his, and she reached up to stroke his hair affectionately. It was as soft as she first imagined it would be.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Clara soothed him.

But as soon as the words left her lips he tensed up, as if he hadn't expected her to hear his previous statement, and quickly left her embrace as if it had burned him.

He cleared his throat awkwardly before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plain midnight blue box with a silver ribbon.

Wordlessly he presented it to her, not meeting her eyes, as she took it from him, her hands purposefully brushing his when she accepted the box.

She wondered what was in it, and eagerly undid the ribbon. When she looked at the contents of the box she gasped.

Inside, nestled on what was clearly expensive looking velvet, was a more expensive looking circular-shaped locket. It was pure silver and had intricate circular carvings embedded in the cover that incorporated the ruby nestled in the middle of the locket as part of the overall design.

Clara badly wanted to ask the Doctor where he had found the locket. What the story was behind it. Why he had decided to present her with it. How he knew that rubies were her favourite gemstone. However she did none of those things and instead gently picked up the locket from the box and cleared her throat.

The Doctor looked up from the ground he apparently found so fascinating and looked quizzically at her hand, which was holding the locket out to him. He took it, and she smiled softly, turning around and lifting the hair off the back of her neck.

She shuddered a little when she felt the Doctor's breath on the back of her neck, his body just inches away from hers, when she felt his fingers gently brush over her skin as he fastened the clasp.

As they both straightened from their intimate pose, the Doctor clearing his throat awkwardly, Clara tried to open the clasp, but found that it was sealed shut.

"Doctor, what's inside this thing?"

The Doctor merely smiled enigmatically.

...

Clara should have realized that she couldn't keep living her double life forever. And now she didn't even get to choose which one she would rather live.

Summer was just beginning to pass into autumn, and it was just after yet another one of her and Danny's awkward outings. Only this time the excursion wasn't awkward. They had just come back from swimming in the lake, laughing together like they used to in the old days, when she spotted the Doctor. He was making his way back to his home, freshly acquired parts for some gadget or other clutched in his arms.

She had called out and waved to him, and as he turned around to presumably reciprocate her greeting Danny suddenly hugged her from behind, still sopping wet and both still in their swimming costumes.

Clara tensed up and quickly disentangled herself from his arms, berating Danny for his actions. But when she turned around to make her way to the Doctor he was gone.

That was the last time she had seen him, and it had been over a week ago. She had tried calling on him at his home, but soon found that it was empty after letting herself in with the spare key he had given her months ago.

Frustrated she inquired all throughout the village, but the response was still the same. No one had seen the Doctor and most assumed he had packed up and left just as mysteriously as he did the first time almost twenty years ago.

And Clara wasn't happy about it. Not one bit.

...

_Five Years Later_

Clara's twenty-fourth birthday came and went. It had been five years since she had seen the Doctor. It had been five months since she had finally said yes to going on an official date with Danny. It had been five days since Danny proposed to her. It had been five hours since she had finally given him her answer. It had been five minutes since she had wandered into the woods yet again.

She sighed and fidgeted with the locket around her neck, which she wore every day, religiously. The Pinks were a good family, and she did not want to loose Danny's friendship. However, he deserved someone who was not constantly thinking about another man when he took her out to a lake side picnic or out dancing at the tavern. And it was her fault that she didn't see how serious Danny was about their relationship before it was too late. She had never pictured herself marrying him, and thought that their dates were light-hearted fun.

She sighed again, still playing with the chain around her neck. She hadn't meant to officially tell him no right before the big Christmas celebration was to go on. She wasn't cruel. However he had forced her into a corner when he pressed her for an answer she was not ready to give in front of all their friends and family in the town square. They hadn't known that Danny had proposed to Clara, which was a quiet affair down by the riverside. They also hadn't known that Clara had told him she would "think about it", and it had been five days since her non-answer. So she panicked. And she had soundly, bluntly, told him no before running off into the woods, too terrified and ashamed at her behaviour to muster up the courage to see his heartbreak written on his face. But now the guilt was seeping in.

The woods had always calmed her before when she was growing up, and they helped her now more than ever since they constantly reminded her of the Doctor. She was sitting in the woodland meadow where he had given her that necklace so long ago, what she called in her mind _Their Place_.

But the sun was setting in the sky, and Clara knew she had to get back to town and face reality. Her family was the one in charge of decorating the town Christmas tree this year, and were the hosts of the main Christmas Eve festivities. She needed to go and get ready so that she could attempt to save some of her non-existent dignity.

Sighing once more, and finally dropping her necklace back onto her breastbone, she turned and left her sanctuary, making her way towards her home.

...

The party was in full swing by the time Clara had arrived. The Joneses, Nobles, Ponds, Williams, Pinks, Smiths, and Harknesses were all there along with the other families in the town.

She was wearing her favourite red dress again, which flattered her figure in just the right way. She had teased her hair into falling in seductive waves, and had applied just the right amount of make-up to look classy but not trashy. She was teetering in her impossibly high, sparkling heels, but it was worth it to not look like the mess she was on the inside. After all, she wasn't the one who was dumped so why should she look like a wreck?

Her father was busy announcing all of the festive activities to the townspeople, while her friends Martha, Donna, Amy, and Nina were overseeing the distribution of presents and the arrival of the feast. Meanwhile Jack, Rory, Lee, and Leo were generally causing chaos and spreading good cheer as the candles were being lit. She spied Mickey consoling Danny over a pint by the main entryway and decisively chose to avoid that area at all costs.

Despite the awkwardness of her recent break up the party was grand, just as it was every year. But for some reason Clara felt that this party was going to be different. She had a feeling deep in her gut akin to anticipation but she couldn't figure out why when the clock struck eight.

Suddenly it was as if the entire town was under a spell and a hush fell over the villagers as a figure made its way through the main entryway. All eyes turned towards it, the figure with an impressive looking sled piled high with unknown objects underneath the midnight blue, sparkling sheet which covered them. When suddenly he stepped into the light. It was the Doctor.

_~to be continued~_


	2. Chapter 1

Note: Please offer your reviews to give me joy and motivation to finish it. I'm not above begging.

Disclaimer: None of the characters, some of the dialogue, or storylines are mine, etc. etc. If they were Twelve and Clara would've made out by now. The UST is just killing me. Also I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. I will most likely obsessively re-read this chapter after posting it and continuously tweak all of my grammatical errors.

**Chapter 1**

Clara could only stare in wonder at the entrance of the Doctor. He had made quite the entrance, and was now passing out gifts to all the families that were assembled at the Christmas tree lighting. Her eyes never left him as he slowly made his way around the room, and she had the distinct feeling that he knew her eyes were fixed on him the entire time.

Eventually she began to realize that he was avoiding her, much like she was doing to Danny. He had distributed fantastical presents to every single villager present - including Danny - except her. Clara frowned at the thought. She was never good at subtlety in her personal life. She preferred the direct approach.

"Where the hell have you been?"

The Doctor looked, seemingly unaffected or surprised by her sudden appearance by his side.

"Away," he said, vaguely waving his hand in the air for added emphasis.

Clara glared disapprovingly at him.

"Are you cross with me?" the Doctor asked as his eyebrows furrowed in consternation.

"I am not cross. But if I was cross it would be your fault," Clara said in one breath, before adding, "And yes I am cross."

"I guessed that," the Doctor said bitingly, frowning.

"I am extremely cross," Clara said again with added emphasis.

"And if I hadn't left would you be cross?" the Doctor asked bitterly.

"I would be cross if I wasn't cross." Clara responded acidly. His question had thrown her for a loop, but she had five years of resentment built up in her that weren't going to go down peacefully.

The Doctor's frown deepened as he realized how angry Clara really was at him. But then he saw what was clearly and proudly displayed on her neck.

"You kept it," he said quietly, decidedly changing the subject.

Clara sent him a withering look.

"Of course I did. Don't be stupid," she said, masking her feelings of hurt with a tone of resentment at his question. Did he honestly think that he meant so little to her that five years would be enough to forget him?

The Doctor coughed awkwardly, and the tension between them began to rise, neither knowing what to say. There was outward chaos all around them as the villagers played with their toys in a rhythmic, almost choreographed way. They were all enjoying the dolls and other inventions the Doctor had presented them with, and were too entranced to notice their giver's inner chaos which was caused by the girl standing next to him.

Clara's eyes wandered around the town square, determined not to look at the man standing next to her. She was not going to be responsible for keeping their conversation going when he was clearly going to be obtuse about their previous relationship and why he left.

It was only because of her roving eyes that she spied it, tucked away in the corner of his sled, partially still under the sparkling cover. A mysterious looking box that looked almost forgotten, yet she was drawn to it.

She moved towards his sled without excusing herself from his presence. After all, he did not offer her the same courtesy five years ago. She could feel him following her with his eyes, but she did not turn around. Instead, she eagerly bent forward to pick up the box before she was stopped by a large hand on her shoulder.

Startled she looked behind her and saw that it was the Doctor. Clearly he had followed her with more than just his eyes, but moved quite stealthily. She hadn't even heard him come up behind her.

"Don't," he said simply, gesturing with his eyes towards the box still lying on the sled.

"Why?" she asked.

At her request he suddenly seemed shy, and although she couldn't tell for sure in the dim light of the candles, she thought she saw a reddened hue to his cheeks.

After a moment's pause, and taking a deep sigh, he removed his hand from her shoulder. In a move which surprised Clara, he stooped himself to pick up the box and present it to her.

She raised her eyebrows skeptically at him. What could possibly be in the box that he didn't want her to open but that he had brought along anyways?

Suddenly the Doctor found his black boots to be the most fascinating subject in the world as Clara opened the box.

Nestled inside the container was the most beautiful nutcracker she had ever seen. It had painted on dark trousers with black boots and a deep, midnight blue coat with silver epaulettes and fastenings. However, one could still detect a flash of red lining on the inside of it. On it's head there was a somber black cap, with a shock of white hair sticking out from underneath. It had blue eyes the same shade as the Doctor's, and Clara was suddenly struck by his resemblance to it.

She was drawn to it. Inexplicably drawn to it. And she was overcome with the feeling that she had to have it.

She stroked its hair lovingly, and caressed the detail on the face as the Doctor watched her with an odd expression on his face. If Clara had torn her gaze away from the nutcracker she would have seen a strange mixture of longing and apprehension on the Doctor's face.

"It's yours," the Doctor said quietly.

Clara looked up in alarm. She hadn't even asked, but it was like the Doctor already knew what she was going to say.

"I mean," the Doctor began again, clearly frustrated with his lack of communicating what he wanted, "If you want it. It's always been yours ever since I...acquired it. But I wasn't sure if there would ever be a time to give it to you. A time if you'd ever want it. Or need it."

His sentences trailed off at the end, and he began to fidget with the ring on his finger as Clara stared at him. She hadn't noticed that he wore a ring before now. She wondered if he had been wearing it the entire time, and for some reason it made her heart sink.

"I love it. It's perfect," Clara said softly, hugging the nutcracker close to her chest, "Thank you Doctor."

She dropped her eyes as the Doctor raised his. Clara's anger had all but evaporated with the gift, and she seemed suddenly withdrawn. It was very unlike his Cla - her. It was very unlike her. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but decided against it. After all, between the two of them she was the one who was better at emotional comfort. He shifted awkwardly on his feet and gestured vaguely behind him.

"I should-"

"Yeah, me too."

But as she walked away Clara still had the distinct impression that his gaze never left her.

...

For the rest of the night Clara studiously chose to avoid the Doctor, and she had a feeling he was doing the same to her. She was conversing distractedly with her friends, clutching the nutcracker close to her chest. However, her eyes were still drawn to him. After their awkward separation he was unable to skulk off, as she suspected he wanted to, because the children began to surround him.

Clara watched the young ones hug his knees and thank him for their gifts. He looked bewildered at their thanks, but somehow didn't look as out of place as Clara thought he would. In fact, he seemed surprisingly good with the children which made Clara conceal a small smile behind her hand as she spied him.

"Clara?" Amy prodded Clara, "What are you smiling at?"

She glanced over towards where Clara was looking and frowned. Even after five years of him all but abandoning her, Clara clearly wasn't over him.

Clara could feel her friend's disapproving glare at her.

"Amy don't-" Clara began, but Amy cut her off.

"Clara don't give me that rubbish. We all thought that Danny would help you forget about that strange man. And really, after five years-"

"Amy, while I appreciate you trying to nose your way into my personal life I really can't see how it's any of your business," Clara sniffed.

She loved her ginger friend, but dear Lord she was nosy.

While Clara was distracted by Amy she didn't notice Danny sidle up beside her until he spoke, "What do you have there Clara?"

Clara jumped at his voice and turned guiltily towards Danny. He was painfully, obviously trying to make small talk, but it wasn't working for him. Nevertheless, Clara took pity on him and said, "The Doctor gave it to me. It's a nutcracker."

Danny frowned as soon as she said the Doctor's name.

"Can I see it?"

Gingerly, Clara passed it over to him. She was loathe to relinquish it, but could not think of a polite way to refuse Danny. Earlier that morning had proved that enough, anyways.

She watched Danny carefully as he eyed the small device. He poked and prodded at it before finally declaring, "I don't much like it. It looks a bit like your space dad."

Space dad was Danny's nickname for the Doctor. Apparently he had stumbled upon her and the Doctor star gazing one night, and he derisively chose to combine the Doctor's love of science and the stars with his physical appearance. After the Doctor mysteriously vanished Danny had taken to calling him that in an attempt to help Clara feel better. But if anything it made her feel more miserable. The Doctor's love of the stars was hardly something to scoff at, and his age was just a number to her. He behaved like a five year old at times so between his behaviour and his actual age, she figured he balanced out to be about perfect for her.

Frowning, Clara reached out for her doll, "May I have it back now, please?"

Danny made to give it back to her, but at that precise moment a mouse decided to scurry underfoot and made Danny stumble. He lost his grip on the nutcracker as it landed with a hollow thunk on the cobbled stones.

Clara looked on in horror. There was nothing she could do about it, and it looked like the nutcracker had broken its arm in the fall.

She gently scooped it up and fastened her handkerchief into a makeshift sling for the doll. Turning away from Danny, she made to immediately go back inside her house.

"Clara!" Danny called out, "Clara! I'm sorry!"

Clara turned, pausing in her path to her house.

"It's fine," she said curtly, "But it's getting late so I'm headed off to bed."

And with that she went back to her house, nutcracker safely tucked between her arms, and the Doctor's gaze steadily following her receding figure towards her house.

When Clara reached the steps to her door she was too exhausted and emotionally drained to change or do anything more than collapse on the settee in the parlour by the fireplace. Men. Particularly the men in her life.

She dragged a blanket that was hanging over the back of a nearby chair for herself and began to close her eyes. The nutcracker was cradled in her arms, and before shutting her eyes Clara whispered to it, "I promise first thing in the morning we'll have the Doctor take a look at you and fix you right up."

...

The clock in the hall struck twelve.

DONG!

Clara woke up with a start, accidentally knocking the nutcracker off its place by her side on the settee. She rubbed her eyes, looking up at the clock face when suddenly the numbers seemed to be getting farther and farther away until the clock tower looked like a skyscraper. Confused, she looked around.

The chair she had been sleeping on had become a vast plain of velvet upholstery, and the gap between her and the floor became a fall that she could break a leg from. Startled and bewildered, Clara blinked her eyes twice again.

Nope, it was real.

DONG!

As the last chime had rung, suddenly Clara noticed movement by the base of the towering Christmas tree. Squinting, she realized that the room was filled with mechanical men, seemingly battling wooden toy soldiers. All of them had been seemingly tucked in between the wrapped presents already placed on the ground.

Wanting to get a closer look, Clara quickly shimmied down the leg of the chair, and crept towards the thick of the battle.

HI-YAH!

Fierce battle cries rose amongst the soldiers as the mechanical men were ruthless in their pursuit against them. Swords clashed and fists punched as the chaos overwhelmed Clara's senses. Where had all of these strange contraptions come from? And how did she shrink?

Clara was so caught up in all of these questions that she had failed to immediately notice that her nutcracker was at the eye of the storming battle raging around him. However, once she realized it was _her_ nutcracker, she quickly snuck over to his side.

He cut a dashing figure, with his midnight blue coat and magic silver baton that had a green light on the end of it. The red lining of his jacket occasionally flashed as he twirled around the battleground. He seemingly appeared to take out six of the mechanical men at once. His moves were too calculated and coordinated to be a work of spontaneity, and his eyes flashed, his eyebrows furrowed, at all of his opponents. However, the most noticeable thing about him was that he looked incredibly like the Doctor, and his arm was in a sling.

Clara continued to watch, mesmerized by what was going on around her, until she noticed something wrong. The toy soldiers seemed to be losing to the metal men, who were also ever so slowly gaining on the Doctor. He was being slowly backed up against a wall by his opponents; still at a disadvantage since he could only fight with one arm.

She didn't have time to think about her actions. On instinct, Clara ran towards the nutcracker, dodging and weaving her way in and out of soldiers, with only one thought: Protect Him.

But she knew that she was too small to run to him in time. The metal men were steadily advancing on the nutcracker, and he seemed to be struggling with his silver wand, waving and shouting at his enemy to no avail.

So she did the first thing that came to her head. She took her shoe and threw it at the figure who seemed to be the leader of the other metal people.

As soon as her shoe hit it with a hollow thud, the metal man, and all the rest of them turned around and focused on her.

Clara gulped. She had not thought about what would happen after she threw her shoe at them. All she had thought about was saving the nutcracker. Nervously she looked around, noticing how the metal men were advancing on her slowly but surely, boxing her in.

However, just when she thought the end was coming she heard a triumphant sounding, "Ah ha!" along with a whirring noise. Instantly, all of the metal men slumped over, face down, as if their source of power had been turned off. Looking in the direction of the noise, Clara saw the nutcracker standing triumphantly, with his silver wand raised high in the air.

Finally, the whirring stopped and with it, Clara's consciousness as she received a good hit to the back of her head.

...

Clara blinked slowly as two images of a fierce set of eyebrows and wide eyes were swirling around. She tried to sit up, but was forced to lie down with a firm, but gentle pressure on her shoulder.

"Easy there lass," a familiar voice said in a brusque accent.

Confused, Clara blinked again and suddenly the two images merged into one, and she began to make out the whole face of the -

"Doctor!" Clara exclaimed, before putting a hand to her temple and groaning loudly.

'No loud noises for a while', she thought.

She saw the faintest outline of a smile on the figure's face, "Aye."

Clara tried to sit up again, but this time the Doctor helped her slowly upright, with the warm pressure of his hand on her back.

She drank in his image, but as she did so she immediately noticed that his arm was bandaged up just like her nutcracker's arm. And as she looked around, she noticed that the tree was still as tall as a mountain, and the chair's seat was similarly out of reach. She also realized that the metal men and wooden soldiers had vanished without a trace.

Frowning slightly, Clara asked, "What happened to the metal men? Why is the tree so tall? And why is your arm in that sling?"

The Doctor chuckled, "Are you sure the tree is tall? Maybe you're just extremely short."

Annoyed, Clara raised her eyebrow. She could tell that the Doctor was deliberately avoiding her questions.

"Doctor," she began, but he cut her off.

"Now, there's no time to waste. If I know him at all it's that the cybermen will be back, and UNIT will not be able to help us. We need to get out of here," he said.

If possible, Clara was even more puzzled than before.

"What are cybermen? Who are UNIT? Where on earth can we go? We're in my house in the middle of town-" Clara said, but was once again halted from finishing her questions by the Doctor yanking on her arm, and pulling her to her feet.

Still a bit woozy, the sudden change in angle made Clara sway on her feet. Instantly, she felt the Doctor by her side, steadying her with his good hand. Once she was stable the Doctor spoke again.

"No time to explain. I need you, for a thing. Come on come on come on!" he hurried her towards the base of the Christmas tree, but still hovered nearby just in case.

Once she got closer to the boxes of presents, Clara noticed he was leading them towards a specific spot towards the back of the tree. Behind some of the larger gifts, there was a small, but large by their standard, brilliant blue box. It had intricate silver, circular designs on the outside, topped by a small blue and silver bow that seemed to glow. In the side of the box there was clearly a door cut into the side of it.

Leaving her side, the Doctor went towards the box, drawing out a small silver key from the inside of his jacket. He opened the door, making his way inside without looking back.

Clara hesitated, though. What on earth was inside the box? Why did he go inside of it? And why wouldn't he answer any of her questions?

However, before she could finish her internal debate, the Doctor popped his head out of the door, "Well are you just going to stand there? Come on, we don't have all day! You'll just have to squeeze through."

Clara raised her eyebrows skeptically, but her curiosity won out as she followed after him.

_~to be continued~_


End file.
